


The Paintbrush

by MaggicSorceress



Series: Maggic's Undertale Human AU [32]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ink should not be given this kind of power, M/M, Painting, but i gave it to him anyway, i wrote this instead of other things, kind of inspired by that old Barbie Rapunzel movie?, modern with magic??, oh well, so very soft, that i should be writing, these boys be soft yall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggicSorceress/pseuds/MaggicSorceress
Summary: Ink buys a paintbrush from the thrift store and takes his fiance out on a date.
Relationships: Error/Ink, Ink/Error
Series: Maggic's Undertale Human AU [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623928
Comments: 20
Kudos: 64





	The Paintbrush

**Author's Note:**

> *smacking my writers block with a blow-up bat* BACK! BACK YOU DEMON! CRAWL BACK TO THE HOLE FROM WHENCE YOU CAME!

Ink had a strange obsession with thrift stores. There was just something about them, about the sort of organised chaos that lay inside and the strange items that he often found when looking around aimlessly. On days when he got off work a little early, Ink would often wander over to a nearby thrift shop and spend hours looking through the varying array of clothes, nick-knacks, and everything in between. Error got mad at him quite a few times for some of the ridiculous things he would bring home with him, but Ink honestly couldn’t help it. He was an artist after all, and some bizarre things just happened to catch his eye and not let go.

Today was one such day. Error often wondered how Ink always managed to find something different every time he went, considering it was so often and the shop wasn’t very big, but Ink didn’t question it. He had good eyes for these sorts of things.

Anyway, he was rummaging through a particularly large pile of used art supplies and mini canvases that were half covered in old crusted paint or ink, when a thin elegantly crafted paintbrush caught his attention. The handle of the paintbrush was wooden and run through with carved swirling designs of gold. Where the actual brush part of it met the handle was a band of gold, thick and slightly rusted with how often said brush had been washed, but as Ink held it in his left hand he found it to be quite comfortable to grip. Twirling the brush absentmindedly between his fingers, Ink thought. He had plenty of paintbrushes back home, too many if you asked Error, but…

He eyed the brush again.

Something about it just…called to him. Like this was a brush that _he_ was meant to have, and Ink had enough experience with these sorts of things to trust his gut instinct. So, he bought the paintbrush for a rather small sum of money and slipped it in his work bag to begin the trek back home.

~

Humming a little to himself as he unlocked the door to _their_ apartment, Ink smiled and stepped inside, closing the door behind him and kicking off his shoes.

“Honey~ I’m hoooome~!” Ink called, trying not to laugh.

“I can see that, squid.” Came a reply from the couch to Ink’s left. Error reclined there, half sunk into the cushions, round glasses perched on his nose and knitting needles in hand. Across his lap was a mess of yarn and a sweater that was three-quarters of the way complete, the television playing quietly in the background. He raised an eyebrow at Ink, corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

Laughing lightly, Ink let his bag drop from around his shoulders and walked over to the couch, resting his hands on the armrest on either side of Error’s head when he grew close enough and swinging a leg up and over the other’s hips, straddling him as he leaned in for a kiss. Error returned it with a small curious hum, blinking up at Ink once they separated.

“What did you do?” Error said, mouth evening out into a thin line of disappointment.

“What makes you think I did anything?” Ink asked.

“It’s just what I naturally assume.” Error said as reached a hand up to push his glasses back up his nose.

“Well, _maybe,_ ” Ink began, pressing a kiss to the back of Error’s raised hand, “I just wanted a welcome home kiss.”

“Sure, you did.” Error said with a smirk. “What did you buy this time?”

“Just a brush.” Ink said, laughing when Error promptly raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Just a brush, I promise.”

Error hummed and dropped his focus back to his knitting, yarning a couple of stitches while Ink watched with a small smile.

“So,” Ink said after a moment of silence, nuzzling his face into Error’s shoulder, “how was my housewife’s day off?”

“Call me a housewife again and I’ll stab your eyes out with my knitting needles.”

Ink laughed again. “You can’t blame me! Look at you, all curled up on the couch with your knitting~.”

“Uh-huh.” Error muttered. “Pretty sexist of you to assume only women can knit.”

“So, would you prefer househusband then?” Ink said, raising an amused eyebrow.

“No.” Error said. “And we’re not even married, moron.”

“Not yet~.” Ink sang, leaning in to place a kiss to Error’s cheek before he pushed himself up to clamber off of Error, only to be stopped by a firm grip around his waist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Error said as he pulled Ink down into another kiss. Ink sighed, melting into it and resting their foreheads together.

“Shower. But I think I’ll stay a little longer.” Ink said. Reaching up, he placed a hand on the back of Error’s neck, letting it drift upwards to tangle with curly dark hair. Error hummed, leaning back into the touch as his thumbs rubbed circles into Ink’s sides. Ink felt himself smile. “You look so cute in your glasses.”

Error raised an eyebrow, trying to look indifferent but betrayed by the pink creeping across his cheeks. “Insinuating that I don’t look cute _all_ the time?”

“Of course not~.” Ink teased. “The glasses just make you cuter.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Error said, glancing back down at his knitting. “Now go shower, you smelly bastard.”

“Says the one who wanted me to stay not even a minute ago?” Ink said.

“Yeah, and now I’m telling you to shower cause you smell.”

Ink stuck his tongue out at his fiance as he clambered off of him, laughing under his breath. “Alright, alright.”

~

It wasn’t until much later that night that Ink remembered the brush thrown haphazardly into his work bag and dug it out to place it in its proper place: his art studio. He had placed it unceremoniously in one of the many brush-filled cups around the room, and turned to leave, when something made him pause. Whether it was Ink’s own creative instinct urging him to paint something, or the very brush itself calling him to do so, he wasn’t sure, but the next thing he knew he was sitting in front of a blank canvas, brush in hand, and a wide variety of oil paints laid out on a crusted old palette. He…wasn’t sure what he was going to paint, he hardly ever started with any semblance of an idea, preferring to let his mind fill in the blanks once he actually had paint on the canvas, and this time was no different. Ink let his hand move where it wanted to, let the brush glide in gentle strokes across the empty white, and soon enough found an entire landscape laid out before him, one with large steep mountains and lush green fields, rimmed with towering pines and dusted with small blue flowers. The sun was out, and the sky was a vibrant shade of blue, interrupted only occasionally by a puffy white cloud or two.

Placing down his brush, Ink smiled at the masterpiece.

This brush was a keeper.

~

A few mornings later, Ink made his way back into his studio to grab the painting and, hopefully, find somewhere in their apartment to hang it. Hesitantly, as he always was, he grabbed one of the nearby rags and popped open his bottle of solvent, dipping the rag into it. Then, even more hesitantly, gently rubbed the rag on the far corner of the painting. As the rag and his attached hand made contact with the surface of the painting, they both slipped through the canvas and Ink let out a startled yelp as his hand vanished into the painting. Yanking his hand back, and almost toppling out of his stool, he stared at the canvas and his own hand in confusion and mild wonder. Ink dropped the rag. The door to the room opened.

“You good?” Error asked, peaking his head in. “I didn’t hear a crash, but…”

Ink took a breath. “Yeah, I’m all good. Just startled myself.”

Shaking his head fondly, Error left, closing the door behind him.

Ink sighed, turning his focus back to his painting. It looked the same as it had only a few minutes ago, with no indication that his hand had slipped into it at all. Curious, Ink lifted his hand and reached out to it again, this time near the centre of the painting, and just as it had before, his hand slid seamlessly through the paint and canvas. He pulled it back and turned the artwork, so he had a view of the back of the canvas, and pressed his hand through it again. His hand didn’t appear on the backside. Growing more and more confused and curious by the second, Ink reached both of his hands out into the painting, letting them slip inside until only his elbows and upwards were visible. It was a strange sensation, like putting your arms in cool water, but it didn’t move or drift over your skin in any way. Pondering for a moment, Ink took a deep breath and held it, shutting his eyes, before promptly sticking his head into the painting.

He expected silence, so when he was met instead by the rushing sound of wind and a nearby creek, he took a chance and opened his eyes, air immediately leaving his lungs as he gaped at the sight before him.

The field and the mountains he had painted on the canvas lay spread out for miles ahead of him, real down to the fine blades of grass and the wind tousling his hair.

For a long, long moment, all Ink could do was stare. It didn’t make sense at all, this entire situation, but as he planted his hands firmly on the ground beneath him and pulled the rest of his body out into the world of the painting, he couldn’t find it in himself to question the logistics of it all too much. For one panicked moment, however, he wondered how he would get back, but a quick glance over his shoulder showed a painting of his art room on the side of a tree. Still, to be sure, he stuck a hand into the painting and smiled when it disappeared into it.

He enjoyed the view for a few more minutes before he remembered that he wasn’t alone in the apartment today, and sooner or later Error would come looking for him. So, with a sigh, Ink pulled himself back through the painting of his art room on the tree…

And promptly fell face first onto the floor of said room, knocking over his easel and brushes with a crash.

_Alright, feet first next time…_ Ink thought to himself, wincing and rubbing his head.

“Still conscious in there?” Error called from the living room; voice muffled by the door.

“Yeah!” Ink answered.

Slowly, his newly purchased paintbrush, and the one he had painted the landscape he had just returned from with, rolled out beside him. Ink stared at it for a long moment.

_I wonder…_

~

“Ruru.” Ink began late one night, curled up at Error’s side as the other finished up a row of stitches under the soft yellow light of one of their table lamps. “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

Error raised an eyebrow at the question, but otherwise chose not to question why Ink was asking. “Uhm…I’m not sure. Somewhere not too hectic, where I could actually relax and enjoy the scenery.”

“Like, a tropical place or a place further north?” Ink said, voice soft.

“Neither.” Error said. “I don’t want to go somewhere super hot, but I don’t really care for the cold either. Maybe…somewhere where it’s decently warm but there’s a nice breeze?”

“Any specific place that comes to mind?”

“I don’t know! ….maybe…Paris…?”

Ink’s eyes widened as he blinked at the new information, a smirk twitching the corners of his lips upward. “Oh-ho-ho! Paris? The City of Love?”

“Oh, shut up! I was just picking a place that kind of had the climate I was describing!” Error cried, cheeks darkening. Ink’s smirk widened into a smile.

“What?” Ink said. “You mean you _don’t_ want to visit all those cute French café’s with me? Or kiss me under the Eiffel Tower? Or-“

“I said shut up!” Error said, smacking Ink in the face with the scarf he had been working on. “I never said anything like that, asshole!”

“But you were thinking it~!”

“I was not!”

“Was too~!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“I wasn’t!”

Ink laughed, wrapping an arm around Error’s waist. “Oh, come _on_ , Starlight! You know I wouldn’t mind! It sounds so _romantic!"_

“…Whatever…” Error muttered, going back to his crocheting, cheeks glowing a much more noticeable pink. Ink smiled brightly at the sight as he snuggled back against Error’s shoulder. “…So, why did you ask?”

Ink hummed. “Just curious~.”

Error raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yup.” Ink said with a nod and a yawn. “I’m going to sleep, don’t stay up too late.”

Error made a noise of acknowledgement before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Ink’s head. “’Night, Kiki.”

“’Night…” Ink murmured, sleep already beginning to take him. His last thought before his mind went blank and he fell deep into sleep was of him and Error holding hands as they stared up at the Eiffel Tower.

~

“Hey, Error?” Ink said as they ate breakfast one morning. “I was just thinking, we haven’t gone on an actual date in a while.”

Error, who was in the middle of shoving as much of his scrambled eggs into his mouth as physically possible, raised his eyes from his plate to stare curiously at Ink. “Sho?”

“So…” Ink teased. “We should go out! One night, when neither of us are doing anything.”

Error swallowed his mouthful before speaking again. “You have a place in mind, squid?”

“I do.” Ink said, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and smiling at Error. “I just need you to say yes.”

Rolling his eyes fondly, Error sighed. “As if me saying no was a possibility.”

Ink’s grin widened. “Then leave it all to me, Ruru!”

~

The painting took days, but maybe that was because Ink wanted to be sure he got every single little detail absolutely perfect. He ended up timing it all well regardless, as two days after it was finished Ink pulled Error, blindfolded, into his art room.

“Okay, so…” Ink began, fiddling with the sleeves of his sweater. “Promise you won’t freak out?”

“…Why would I freak out?” Error asked with a frown.

“Cause I…just can’t explain how this works but it does.” Ink said.

“Just take this damn blindfold off.”

Ink complied rather reluctantly, and when Error’s eyes had adjusted enough to the light of the room to register where they were, he turned to Ink with confusion laced into his features.

“You, uh, wanted to take me on a date to your art room?” Error guessed.

Ink shook his head. “I _know_ that’s what it looks like, but hear me out.” He reached out a hand, intent on Error taking it. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes?” Error said, intertwining their hands.

“Okay, so…” Ink took a breath before continuing. “I bought this brush at the thrift store, and I know it sounds insane but wherever I paint with it, I can go.”

Error blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Here, just,” Ink said, pulling Error over to the painting. “Try to touch it.”

Although Error still stared at Ink like his fiancé had grown an extra head, he complied and reached out with a finger, only for it to disappear as it entered the painting. Error pulled his hand back with a yell.

“What the _fuck?!_ ” Error cried.

“See?” Ink said. “It’s _crazy_ and it makes no logical sense, but it _works!"_

“So…what?” Error said. “You just…walk through it and end up someplace different?”

“Well, that’s the gist of it. But it’s less like walking and more like ‘finding a way to crawl into it’.” Ink explained. At Error’s even more confused look, Ink spoke again. “Here, I’ll show you.”

Carefully, he took the painting off the easel and placed it flat on the ground, kneeling over it. Then, he reached his hands into it and, as ungracefully as possible, crawled into the painting and disappeared. Error stared at the spot Ink had been, concern mounting every second that Ink stayed vanished.

“…Ink?” Error tried, hesitant.

Then, as if he had heard his name, Ink poked his head out of the painting and stared up at Error, smiling.

“Are you coming or what?” Ink said.

On his knees next to the painting, Error’s confidence wavered. “…I don’t like this, Kiki.”

“It’s not dangerous, I promise.” Ink encouraged, smile softening. He reached a hand out through the painting towards Error. “Come on, you’ll be fine.”

“…You better be sure about this, squid.” Error said, taking Ink’s hand.

Ink laughed. “Of course I am!”

Error let Ink pull him slowly towards the painting, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath when his face neared it. The painting felt cool as he passed through it, and he unconsciously squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He remained in darkness for a long moment.

“You can…open your eyes, Ruru.” Ink’s voice called out to him, laced with laughter, and Error let his eyes flutter open.

A soft blanket lay spread out beneath his fingers, surrounded by a ring of tealights and complete with a few pillows and a little picnic basket. Around them lay a grassy field, but it was what sat ahead of them that really drew Error’s attention, so much so that he hadn’t noticed that Ink had pulled him fully through the painting. Glowing with light against a backdrop of midnight sky lay the Eiffel Tower. Ink flushed slightly, squeezing their still joined hands as Error gawked at the sight before them.

“You said you wanted to see Paris, so I thought ‘why not take him?’.” Ink said. “It’s not much but, I figured you’d like it.”

“…It’s beautiful…” Error breathed, and Ink let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, admiring the way the lights reflected in Error’s eyes.

“Glad you like it.” Ink said, just as soft. When Error tore his gaze from the sight to stare at Ink, smile soft as he squeezed Ink’s hand back, Ink felt his heart stutter in a way that was becoming achingly familiar.

“Of course I like it, idiot.” Error said, leaning closer to press their foreheads together. “I’d go anywhere, so long as you were there too.”

Ink’s heart leapt in his chest and his cheeks warmed, a smile growing quickly on his face as he leaned in to press their lips together, chaste and gentle and so full of adoration he hoped Error could feel it melt into his skin.

“I love you.” Ink whispered when they parted.

Error pressed a kiss to the end of his nose. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was warring with myself for a while, cause I kind of wanted to give Ink or Error an ability of some sort, but then I just settled on finding a way to bring broomie into this WHILE giving Ink some sort of power.  
> Regardless, I hope you guys liked it! Comments and kudos are always lovely to see! <3  
> -Maggic


End file.
